Along the way, some travelers died from lack of supplies, some were killed in battles with local fauna and weather conditions, while others ran into Outcasts, bandits, or fell under the influence of followers of smaller organizations and groups. And all this happened before the main test the vast desert, which spread out in place of the once rich in water the Mediterranean Sea. Those who still managed to reach it and survived, awaited a fascinating journey through hundreds of kilometers of sand dunes, where the last notes of reason left their masters. Few people reached Babylon, and no one ever returned from there in their right mind. More often than not, the end point of the journey was the orders stakes, pulling half-dead people out of the clutches of the merciless desert. Marcus was in one of them. New arrivals were first sent to the sacred service, which lasted a long twelve hours. Prayers and sacred chants were hammered into the heads of the future followers of the order with the help of stupefying herbs. Many during the service could not stand it and fell down, but time after time they were lifted up, brought to their senses, forced to listen and accept the rules of their future life.
Marcus didnt come here following a sermon. He and his men were out for revenge. Every Caper knew that there was only one just payment for the death of his own the death of their killers. And the Orders troops had killed and enslaved many Capers and their dear people. Unfortunately, the desert proved to be stronger than any enemies. First the supplies ran out, then, without water and food, the very life in the once great warriors began to die. One by one, the illustrious soldiers of the Capers fell exhausted among the sands of the vast desert death due to stupidity and, as a result, a complete failure of the campaign.
When they were found by the Order, the Capers were able to fight, but did not win. Most of them died in the sands as food for insects and predators, and the rest were dragged to the headquarters. They were not driven to the sermon. First, it was necessary to break their spirit, to prepare them to accept the rules of the Order. However, even here the managers of the headquarters miscalculated. After all, they captured not ordinary survivors, but Capers warriors and the most freedom-loving people on the planet. All of them chose death over serving a false goddess. Only Marcus remained.
The armless lay down on the floor and closed his eyes. The wind howled outside the window. Small grains of sand crashed against the prison walls. Soon they would come for him. It was there that everything would be decided, where he would die, like his men, preferring death to slavery. He was almost asleep when he heard a lone cry of pain. His eyes opened, his hearing sharpened. In the next instant, the horn of the Order howled. Someone was attacking the camp. Behind the bacchanalia of gunfire, shouts and screams, the rustling of sand and the horror-stricken clatter, the wind was now almost inaudible. Marcus listened to every sound with excitement in his heart. What was happening behind the wall, how it would end, he did not know. But his confidence in the correct prophecy of the future for Franco and his minions grew stronger by the minute. It wasnt him, it was them.
Soon the sounds of the struggle faded, giving full authority to the howl of the wind. Marcus rose to his feet, tensing every muscle, trying to hear something, but there was only the wind outside. The captive slid disappointedly down the wall, settling back on the floor. The silence did not bode well for him.
He was beginning to fall back into sleep when footsteps sounded outside the door. Someone was walking heavily down the hallway, leaning against the walls now and then. The lock rattled, and the door opened. Standing in the doorway was an officer of the Orders guard, a strong and powerful warrior. He was badly wounded. His right knee, encased in an exoskeleton, had been punctured, and a bloody stump was writhing in the place of his left arm. Such wounds were not survivable in the desert. As if he didnt realize it, the officer, faithful to orders, looked at the prisoner nonchalantly and said hoarsely:
Your time has come. Follow me.
After saying that, he staggered and fell. Marcus couldnt believe his luck. This brainless idiot, loyal to the rules and orders, had come and opened the door for him without even thinking that he was about to die? And this is the elite of the Orders troops? The armless man felt a mute exultation. He was preparing to fight for the right to be killed, and here he was given the gift of freedom! A happy coincidence, or the help of someone he tried not to mention the owner of his soul and hands. Whatever the case, the opportunity had to be seized.
Searching for his last remaining strength, Marcus began to search the officers still warm body. A flask on his hip, a pouch of herbs, a knife and a respirator no lasgun or stimulants. This Cognizer had lost all the most important things, but what he had with him could help him to fulfill his plan. The discovery of a piece of chitinous shell stuck in the back of the dead man was an unpleasant discovery. It belonged to a sand scout, the curse of the desert, a mutant that had taken the best of the scorpion and the crab, and was a good hundred times the size of his tribesmen. The scouts of the sandpeople were real monsters, not easy to kill. Still, if one wanted to live, one had to kill them all. Otherwise, if even one of the scouts survived, he would lead the rest of the swarm, which were millions of hungry mouths ready to devour everything they ate.
Finished with the search, Marcus ran outside. The bright light blinded him. Covering his eyes with his hand, trying to get used to it faster, he moved forward cautiously. The remains of torn bodies lay everywhere. The smell of fresh blood lingered in the air. At one of the corpses, Marcus bent down to pick up a lasgun. The body of an Order follower torn in two was beginning to swell with the effects of the poison, exuding a stench. The armless man pulled a handkerchief with the Orders symbol painted on it from the dead mans neck and covered his face with it. Inhaling such a thing was no less dangerous than being exposed to the poison. The vapors from it could stupefy, hallucinate, and even kill.
There were many casualties from the battle with the Sandmen, and there were not even a dozen killed crustacean monsters in sight. Apparently, the Order members had been taken by surprise. Whether or not anyone had survived, Marcus did not check. There was a clattering sound from behind the temple, which meant that the Sandmen scouts were still around. He had to leave the place without delay, and he knew the way to the gate.
He turned around only when the Orders headquarters was about to disappear over the sandy hill. His excitement was waning, and now Marcus could think of his loyal fighters who had died in this cursed place. They had fought alongside him for years, each one of them as dear to him as a family member. They believed in him and went with him to their deaths. They died, and he could barely move his feet on the sands of the vast desert, not knowing where he was going, but knowing why. He is Marcus the Armless, the great leader of the Capers, destined to become the most powerful ruler of the survivors of the Day of Zero. For this, he sacrificed his soul and his hands. He couldnt die, his master wouldnt let that happen.
Chapter 4: Day of Zero
Adam woke up feeling uneasy. He had been having nightmares all night. He hadnt been able to rest and regain his strength properly and, judging by the clock, he could forget about the hope of replenishing what he needed. Next to him, curled up, Annet slept sweetly. The disturbing visions of the past day had escaped her, but she was still nervous after reading the news and watching a couple of topical shows. Some were talking about a new virus, others were replicating the official version of solar flares there were many opinions, but each one seemed sillier than the last. Adam was just glad that Annet was all right, that she was safe and sound, that she was finally home by his side. He sighed contentedly, kissed his wife and got out of bed.
The cool shower washed away the remnants of sleep, leaving only a mild headache. First the non-interface, then the dreams and visions. And, no, not that there was anything positive in them, only fear, pain, and a sense of emptiness. Their echoes were still being felt. All this couldnt help him come to his senses, and he wanted to have only a couple of underestimated projects. From the news, Adam heard about three dozen detainees, a couple of broken storefronts, a dozen damaged robots, and six destroyed cars. After eating a sandwich and leaving a note for his wife, he decided to make up for yesterdays time loss and headed to the Center early.
The citys roads were empty. Only the occasional cleaning robot or police drone came into view. Calm and peaceful everything was as it always was, as if the phenomenon had never happened. There was plenty of traffic in the Center despite the lack of life. Robots were changing at their posts and scurrying everywhere, engines squealing, driving the wind through the spacious hallway. One of the robots came close and stopped.
Monsieur Perket, said the machine in the voice of a popular announcer. Agatha Becker left you a message, would you like to hear it now?
Yeah, go ahead.
Agathas voice came over the speaker: «Good morning. I hope youre up and able to close the matter with RoboticsGangIndustries. Ive sent one copy to them, like you said. When youre done, Ill expect a call and a meeting. There are a number of issues to discuss. Good luck!».
Adam scanned his finger, acknowledging receipt of the message, and set off to gather what he needed for the workshop. He downloaded the contract, presentation, and technical documentation onto the secure key and, spitting on his much-loved neurointerface, set off.
The RoboticsGansIndustries office was located twenty kilometers from the city. It was combined with a production and shipping workshop a small part of a huge complex. The whole complex was located on fifty hectares and could easily claim the status of a small city. Thousands of robots under the control of hundreds of people were constantly working on its territory. They serviced production lines, worked in assembly shops, in design offices and commercial offices. Volumes were frantic and, to keep business growing, it was decided eight years ago to create a closed eco-environment around key facilities. RGI built a power plant using RITEG technology, dug its own water well with the purest mineral water, and even put in a few decent restaurants. Then the main pride of the company appeared an advanced testing ground used for product testing. Soon after, the approach to the protection of all this changed. Instead of the usual perimeter fence, thick concrete structures studded with live metal inserts were erected, and hundreds of drones monitored the airspace day and night. Like little bees carrying honey to the hive, they flew tiredly and leisurely to the barracks to recharge, change batteries, and then returned to their duty stations again, cheerfully and cheerfully. Arms production is a high-risk area, but even for it, the measures around the main branch of the RGI were considered something unprecedented in society.
Adams car pulled up to the checkpoint and stopped at the automatic badge system. After a retinal scan, a voice came from the speakers on the counter:
Your passage has been approved. Robert Audley is waiting for you in the lobby of A Wing. You will be escorted. Follow the escorts instructions until you arrive at your final destination.
The car was surrounded by four robot policemen with a wheelbase and, having asked to set the speed limit to sixty kilometers per hour, stood at the head of the convoy. Adam had never traveled under escort before, which made him feel a little uncomfortable, and the apparent security somehow made him feel anxious instead of reassured. His palms were covered with sweat. When the wing of the administrative center appeared ahead, a car with armed men on board joined the convoy. They were neither police nor military, strange men in paramilitary uniforms whose chevrons showed a blindfolded, armless woman. At the sight of them, excitement only built up and the sweating was no longer confined to the palms of my hands. Upon reaching the A-wing the procession came to a halt. Robert was already waiting.
Good afternoon! Still alive, then? he began his greeting with an old joke.
Hello, Robert, Adam said courteously, hiding his sweaty palms in front of him. Youve got so many guards, I dont even feel comfortable, he admitted embarrassedly.
Dont worry, securitys never been a problem. You could supply half the alliance army with the weapons stored here. It would be foolish to leave it unattended. By the way, Id like you to meet Captain Khrenin, our internal security officer. Robert pointed his hand at a tall, scowling young man dressed head to toe in advanced combat gear. He and his men will protect my life and yours, even at the cost of their own. We are perfectly safe, but we must hurry.
Audley patted Adam on the shoulder, inviting him to follow. They, accompanied by the internal security team, walked through the glass office building. A new car and two security vehicles were waiting for them on the other side. Noticing his guests mute surprise, Robert hurried to clarify the situation:
We have that event I told you about yesterday. It wont take long. After that, well sign the papers and youll be completely free.
Somehow his offer seemed doubtful. Intuition was stubbornly advising me not to go to an unknown place and for an unknown purpose. Everything seemed strange: Audleys uncharacteristic vigor and the armed men everywhere. No matter what Robert said, Adam knew that no security service could have any right to carry lethal weapons, and this one had even more than it needed. For a dozen years now, tasks using lethal means had only been performed by robots. They were directly subordinate to either the Ministry of Defense or the Ministry of Civil Protection. People with guns were breaking the law, which meant Audley was breaking the law. Adam remembered his wife, the visions and dreams. Everything layered on top of each other, making him afraid to make a seemingly simple decision.
Still, I wish I knew a little more to agree. Dont get me wrong, I have to prioritize my time. Its my workday, he decided to justify his own indecision.
Robert laughed.
When it comes to the unique, one-of-a-kind, the last thing you should be thinking about is work. Come on, stop fidgeting and get in the car!
Intuition is a faithful helper of those who know themselves and an insidious enemy of those who have not yet found themselves. It speaks about many things when no one can say anything. It is treacherously silent when noise reigns supreme. Adam couldnt make out her words or hints. He succumbed to the noise and got into the car.
Do you know why Im urging you to attend the upcoming event? Robert broke the long silence.
They had been traveling for a dozen minutes without a word between them. During that time the number of «guards» had increased to fifteen escort cars, filled with people of unpleasantly stern appearance. For a while the buildings of the complex flashed in the windows, but then they disappeared. Now the «combat convoy» was moving along a flat, deserted terrain.
You said you were interested in me as an engineer.
Thats also, thats also true. But in general, I have long wanted to know what kind of person you are, what qualities prevail in you, what your strengths and weaknesses are. I want to understand why you have what I dont have.